Yesterday was one of those perfect spring afternoons in Portland. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and every bar and restaurant was overflowing onto the sidewalks with beautiful hipsters. It was one of those days where, when your cousin texts and asks if you want to go out for drinks, dinner turns into hastily made mac and cheese, which you wolf down before walking to the nearest bar, where you enjoy mason jars filled with the some of the most delicious mixed drinks in Portland (I’m talking about Swift Lounge, Portlanders, and you’re missing out if you haven’t been).
So, definitely not an evening for Gwyneth-inspired dishes. I am, however, researching butchers and fishmongers, to try to figure out where I can get the best possible deals and products. I’m warily eying a couple of the more frightening recipes, as I feel I should try to tackle one of them soon, to give myself some confidence. Not sure if I’m ready to stab a lobster in the face yet, though. Or shell out $100 for one home-cooked meal. Ugh.
In other news, I have, with the aid of a few cardboard boxes, transformed my office desk into a standing desk. Because what’s the point of eating healthily and exercising all the time if you’re going to spend 8 hours a day with your big ass held up by a chair? The cardboard boxes and lack of a chair may make me look like a homeless lunatic (or possibly an eccentric genius? Let’s go with that one), but standing all day makes me feel less like a worthless office slob and more like an accomplished hero. I’m standing on my feet all day! Just like nurses, or firefighters! Plus, it lets me walk around the office like an entitled jerk, which is what I always dreamed I’d grow up to become. I can’t say one way or another if this trend of being as healthy as possible (please ignore what I said earlier about the mac and cheese and mason jars full of alcohol) can be entirely attributed to Gwyneth’s influence, but I’d like to think she’s partly responsible.
Is this post coming across as smug and self-absorbed as I suspect it is? It feels like I just wrote an issue of GOOP. Maybe I should start publishing DOOP.
Yesterday, for whatever reason, found me in a funk. An eye-straining day at work spent staring at numbers on a computer screen, followed by a walk home through the rain, followed by an hour and a half of a particularly exhausting workout, and I was in no mood to cook. But the show must go on, unfortunately.
So: Wood Oven Pizzas. It was Sunday night, and I wanted something easy, cheap, and quick. What followed was definitely not any of those three. Is the honeymoon period over? I fear it may be. Storm’s a-brewin’.
As I sit here, waiting for my dough to rise and my sauce to simmer (you’ll have to wait to see what I’m making!), I thought I’d say a few words about my mom, seeing as it’s Mother’s Day. Sorry for the divergence, but I’m sure Gwyneth would approve. Also, my mom emailed me to say that she’s waiting for a new blog post from me, and then yelled at me again when I called to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. So, this should shut her up.
Guys, first of all, I want to thank everyone who’s been visiting and commenting and telling other people about this stupid thing that I’m doing. I kind of just thought my mom would read half of the first post I wrote and then give up, and that would be it, so I’m a little overwhelmed by how many people are reading this stuff. Are you guys okay? Are you all trapped in a mine with nothing but a laptop to entertain you? I’m worried about all of you. I guess the downside is that now I actually have to finish this thing. Damnit.
Yesterday was a hectic day on par with one of Gwyneth’s “more manic days” she immortalized in a
When you think of Gwyneth Paltrow, I’m sure you think of one thing: Asian food. Obviously. So, I knew I had to have a kick-off dinner celebrating the official beginning of the Danny/Gwyneth Project, and I knew I also had to cook Asian food.
The Danny/Gwyneth Project 